Gardella Vampires - Rises The Night Part 4

Since they had been riding in his carriage, under his direction, and Victoria hadn't seen any vampires for weeks until these three suddenly appeared, surrounding their vehicle, she couldn't help but suspect Sebastian's hand in the matter. His way of denying had been to protest that he had saved her life before; why would he endanger her at that moment...? But Victoria hadn't fully believed him.

"He seems a very amiable gentleman, if a bit shy," commented Starca.s.set, hovering rather close to Victoria in a gentle waft of balsam.

"Mr. Vioget? Shy?"

"I meant, rather, Dr. Polidori, although Mr. Vioget is also very pleasant. Ah, and here they are now."

Starca.s.set moved toward the door, but Victoria impudently remained across the room and with her back to it, pretending to be admiring an arrangement of tall purple lupine. She would find out soon enough if Sebastian was as surprised by her presence as she was by his.

Behind her, the other guests were being introduced to Dr. Polidori and Monsieur Vioget, as Sebastian identified himself. At the sound of his familiar voice and its intriguing accent, Victoria felt an uncomfortable p.r.i.c.kle.

Then, at last... "And Dr. Polidori, and M. Vioget, may I introduce to you my sister's particular friend, Victoria de Lacy, Marchioness of Rockley."

Victoria turned to face the three men. "It is a pleasure to meet a man of such renown, Dr. Polidori. Your work has made quite a reputation for you," she said, offering her hand to the man with messy dark hair. A quick skim of her attention over Sebastian told her that she had the advantage of him. She had never seen such a look of discomposure on his handsome face. It would be comical if she weren't as taken aback as he.

"Madam, I am very well pleased to make your acquaintance. And thank you for your kind words." Polidori bowed and released her hand, then turned to take a gla.s.s of brandy from the viscount as he remarked on his trip from London.

"M. Vioget," Victoria said, and offered her hand to Sebastian. Obviously recovered, he took it gallantly, closing his fingers over her gloved ones and raising them to his lips.

He'd not changed in the last year: still impeccably clothed in the highest of fashion, with tawny hair curling over the high collar of his shirt and the same superficially charming smile that always seemed to have a hidden message behind it.

"May I express my condolences, Lady Rockley," he said as he raised his face from her glove. He let her fingers slip through his as she returned her hand to her side, looking at her intently. "I was terribly sorry to hear of your loss."

Considering the fact that he'd been quick to take advantage when he'd learned she broke her engagement with Phillip, Victoria found that highly unlikely. But there was that hint of abashment in his face... perhaps he was feeling contrite over the events that had left the Silver Chalice in flames, and Phillip and Max ultimately in the hands of Lilith. Although whether it was the loss of his business or the cause of Phillip's death that he regretted, she was not certain.

"I was terribly sorry to experience it," she replied coolly, and turned back to Gwendolyn's brother with a warm smile. "Who is that lovely woman in the painting over the mantel, Mr. Starca.s.set?"

Happy to oblige her interest, Starca.s.set removed her from the presence of his guests and strolled with her to the portrait in question.

Victoria took care to keep him in conversation for the next several minutes, whilst they waited for the last members of their party to join them. As she continued to ask questions regarding this painting and that vase and the statue on the table thither, she kept the edge of her attention focused on Sebastian.

He watched her without appearing to do so, covertly scanning her whenever he turned to speak to someone, letting his eyes wander in her direction whenever he lifted his gla.s.s to drink. Instead of the chill over the back of her neck that she felt when a vampire was watching, Victoria felt Sebastian's attention as a never-ending p.r.i.c.kle between her shoulder blades. It was accompanied by an unfamiliar squirming in her stomach. She and Sebastian had unfinished business to attend to.

When it was time to walk into the dining room, Mr. Starca.s.set remained at her side and led Victoria to a seat between himself and Dr. Polidori. Sebastian was placed at the other side of the table, near the opposite end, between Miss Berkley and Gwendolyn.

"I have had the pleasure of reading your work, Dr. Polidori," Victoria offered, removing her gloves and folding them neatly in her lap. She'd read The Vampyre even before becoming aware of her Venator calling. "It is very unique, as most other stories about vampires portray them as mere beastly creatures of low cla.s.s, while your gracious and charming Lord Ruthven could easily find himself a place in the ton. How did you ever come to this different understanding of these creatures?"

"Indeed, it was rather Byron's fault. I was visiting him along with Sh.e.l.ley and his wife in Switzerland, and she thought up a game for each of us to write a story about a supernatural or monstrous creature. Byron dabbled with the story for a bit, then moved on to something else, and as the idea piqued my interest, I decided to pursue it." Polidori's reply was glib, as though he'd given it many times. His hair was an explosion of wild black curls that could not, no matter the amount of pomade, be tamed. They framed his round, youthful face and curled in every direction. Yet, despite his easy carriage and words, a wariness limned his eyes, as though something worried at him.

"You wrote so convincingly, Dr. Polidori. Do you believe that vampires exist? That they actually can move among us in Society? Could any one of the peers really be a vampire?" Mrs. Manley, Gwendolyn's aunt, who sat across from him, appeared quite taken with the idea that a vampire might be sitting at the very table.

Victoria refused to exchange glances with Sebastian, although he tried. She hoped quite heartily that the woman never came face-to-face with a vampire, in Society or no. "Only members of the peerage who do not show their faces during the day,"

Victoria commented with a smile. "According to Dr. Polidori, they do not come out in the sunlight. If they did, would they die a horrible death... or merely be burned?"

"I believe they would suffer terrible burns, but they would be unlikely to die unless overexposed."

"And what of flame?" Victoria asked, remembering last summer, when she and Max had been trapped with vampires in a burning building. "Would that also burn them?"

Polidori brushed crumbs from the corner of his mouth. "Flames from a fire do not harm a vampire, at least"-he gave a gentle laugh-"in my imagination."

And in reality as well. Victoria thought it quite interesting that Polidori seemed to have an accurate knowledge of the bloodthirsty creatures.

"Dr. Polidori is lately returned from Italy." Sebastian's comment was directed to Miss Berkley.

"Italy? I have never been, but I have heard that Rome and Venice are lovely cities. Where in Italy did you travel?" asked Gwendolyn.

"I spent much of my time in Venice with Byron, until several months ago, when we parted ways. He felt he did not need the personal services of a physician any longer." he added with a self-deprecating smile. "I traveled throughout the country and then returned to England near the beginning of the year."

Victoria's attention was drawn from the physician-turned-author to Mr. Starca.s.set, when he leaned closer and said, "I shall promise you, Lady Rockley, that the gentlemen will not leave you ladies long alone in the parlor after dinner. I am hoping you might partner me in a game of whist this evening, as my sister claims you are a devilish good player!"

"Does she indeed?" Victoria replied, trying to recall if she had ever played whist with Gwendolyn. She didn't believe she had; so now she wondered whether Mr. Starca.s.set had her confused with some other lady, or whether he was merely attempting to make an attachment to her. Smothering a smile, she turned back to him with a demure look and said, "I should be quite pleased to be your partner in whist, if you will agree to sing when Gwendolyn sits at the pianoforte. She has spoken quite often of your pleasing voice!"

He smiled down at her, his teeth wide and white, and his eyes warm. "I think I must call you on that exaggeration, madam, as Gwendolyn scarcely allows any of her siblings to sing whilst she plays... but I will happily make the attempt, if all for your hand at cards."

Indeed, Starca.s.set made quite well on his promise, ushering the men from their cigars and brandy back into the parlor with the ladies less than thirty minutes after they had separated following the end of the meal. A rousing game of whist ensued, with he and Victoria partners, playing across from Miss Berkley and Mr. Vandecourt.

Victoria, who was not known for her excellence at cards, despite Starca.s.set's claims to the contrary, managed to keep from embarra.s.sing herself... even when Sebastian happened to stroll along behind her and peer over her shoulder as though to ascertain whether her mediocre playing was due to lack of good cards or skill.It was also possible he was using the opportunity to look down the bodice of her gown, as he stood behind her for quite a long enough time, but since he already was acquainted with exactly what it covered, she rather doubted he would need to stare quite so long.

Victoria felt her face warm at the memory that this man behind her-who, by all outward appearance, was a stranger to her...

had actually had his long-fingered hands on her bare skin. And she had allowed it.

"I believe I am quite finished with whist," she said calmly, as the last hand of the second game ended and she stood from her seat. "Perhaps Gwendolyn and her brother will entertain us at the pianoforte."

The Starca.s.set siblings obliged her request, and their lovely duets soon ebbed into a more rousing set of country songs. The others joined in with the singing, and imbibed more brandy and sherry, and soon Gwendolyn's fair cheeks were flushed, Miss Berkley was fluttering her eyelashes quite noticeably at Sebastian, and Victoria was feeling cheerier than she had for months.

But when she saw the way Mr. Vandecourt hovered near Gwendolyn, solicitously a.s.sisting her to rearrange the pillow on which she sat, and the way his expression softened when he looked at her, Victoria felt a wave of loneliness. It had been that way with Phillip. So kind, so thoughtful, so handsome... she had lost him so very quickly.

Even once she moved beyond this grief that would rear up when she least expected it, grabbing her by the throat when she thought she'd kept it at bay, she would not be able to think about finding a husband or having children. She'd never be able to be like Gwendolyn, happy to be in love, planning a family life, looking forward to the next Season.

Thus was the life she'd chosen, and Victoria was not bitter about it. She'd done it for the right reasons, and the freedoms she received, the things she learned, the ability to rely upon and protect herself were compensation enough.

But there were times, like now, seeing her happy friend, that she realized how deep the sacrifice had been.

"Lady Rockley, is something the matter?" asked George Starca.s.set, who had stepped away from the pianoforte to move to her side. "May I offer you a breath of air on the patio? You look a bit warm."

"No, thank you, sir," she replied. "I fear it is simply that I am fatigued from the ride from London. I believe I will excuse myself and say good night."

"Of course. Perhaps you will feel better in the morning. Good evening."

Victoria bade the others good night and left the revelry still in progress. The last things she noticed as she left the room were Miss Berkley and Sebastian in a'tete-a-tete in the corner by the whist cards, and Mr. Starca.s.set's gentle blue gaze trailing her movements.

Back in her room, Verbena helped her to prepare for bed. She seemed unaware of her mistress's pensive mood, instead filling what would have been silence with giddy observations about the male species of Claythorne's staff. One in particular seemed to have caught her attention, and Verbena waxed poetically about the underbutler during the entire time it took to unpin Victoria's hair, brush it, and braid it into one wrist-sized plait.

"That will be all tonight," Victoria said, slipping beneath the covers of her bed. "Now take yourself off and see if you can find the impressive John Golon and bat your eyelashes at him a bit."

Despite her relatively early departure from the party downstairs, Victoria was certain she wouldn't find sleep easily. But the next thing she knew she was awakened by a sudden dip on the bed next to her.

She came fully awake and felt the movements of the large body on the mattress as hands groped toward her own person.

"Lady Rockley. Vi'toria."Along with the low murmuring of her name came a waft of spirits. It was so strong it had Victoria turning away and holding her breath. A hand brushed over her face, and another along her arm... alarmingly close to her bosom.

"Mr. Starca.s.set? What are you doing here?" Slipping away from his grasp, she slid from the bed and lit a candle. The illumination was enough to show him blundering about in the blankets, then the lifting of his gla.s.sy-eyed face.

"V'toria... if I may c-call you that," he said, the syllables meshing into one another in a strange cadence. "I knew it... I knew the signs..."

"Mr. Starca.s.set, I can't imagine what you are talking about, but you are completely foxed." Victoria nearly had to laugh at the bemused, earnest expression on his face. Perhaps she should be affronted by the man's impropriety, but at the moment he appeared so completely harmless and befuddled that she could almost find the humor in it. The very proper George Starca.s.set would be mortified if he realized his inebriated self had barged into a lady's bedchamber in the middle of the night.

Certainly it was a common occurrence at house parties such as this one. Victoria had no illusions about the purpose of large parties set on an estate in the country-they were often the perfect excuse and opportunity for illicit trysts. But for some reason she did not picture George Starca.s.set as one who sneaked about, looking for a chance to tryst.

It simply appeared he had imbibed more than enough brandy after she had gone upstairs. Perhaps the overindulgence was to build up his courage... perhaps it was merely that he'd played too many games of whist.

Or perhaps he got lost on the way to his room. Victoria stifled a soft laugh.

There was nothing left for it. She had to get him out of her room and, hopefully, back to his... or at least to a different area of the house.

A quick glance down reminded her that traipsing around a strange household dressed in a frothy nightgown of little more than French lace and silk was not a prudent thing. With a glance at her late-night visitor, who appeared to have found comfort in her pillows, she pulled a pelisse from the wardrobe where Verbena had hung it, slipped her arms in, and b.u.t.toned the three b.u.t.tons tightly over the bodice. She had to tug on the sleeves of her nightgown to adjust them beneath the narrow sleeves of the pelisse so they didn't bunch up. The cut of the long coat would do little to hide the long silk skirts of her nightgown, but at least her bosom would be covered. s.n.a.t.c.hing a pair of slippers, she tucked her feet into them and turned back to the bed.

"Come along, dear Mr. Starca.s.set. I suppose after this I. can call you George... at least for tonight." She giggled and tugged him off the bed. Thanks to her exceptional strength, it was no difficult task to pull him to his feet and sling an arm about his waist. He was beginning to lose track of his eyes; they would focus on her, then suddenly roll up into his head... then come back down and look at her again.

It wouldn't be long before he was out, and so she must move quickly to get him out of there. She could only imagine the horror on his face if he awoke the next morning in her room.

Smiling at the thought, Victoria walked him to the door and out into the hallway. She held the candle in one hand and half lifted, half dragged him with her other arm around his waist.

He was a bit taller than she, and his head began to loll alarmingly. Victoria realized she had no idea where his room was, or even which wing of the house it would be in. So she opted for the safest, easiest route: the library immediately belowstairs.

Thump, thump, thump... She directed him down the sixteen steps and by the time they got to the bottom she was dragging him, as he'd lost the battle with his eyes and neck. His head hung, bobbing easily, and when she peered down to look, his eyes were nearly closed, the lids fluttering as though he were dreaming behind them. His pale blond hair fell in a thick swoop over one temple, and his mouth made the slightest gap. Probably not the way he would want her to see him, Victoria thought, and smiled again, thankful that he would likely not remember much of what occurred. Thus if she said nothing, his pride would be salvaged.Into the library she went, thankful that it was one of the rooms Gwendolyn had pointed out to her that afternoon. She deposited George in a large wing-back chair near a silent fireplace and tugged the collar of her pelisse back into place.

Something glinted on the floor; she nearly missed it, but the cast of her candle had unexpectedly glanced over it. One of George's b.u.t.tons, perhaps? Victoria bent and, with a sudden intake of breath, s.n.a.t.c.hed it up from the hooked wool rug.

No, not a b.u.t.ton.

The disk was round and bronze and bore the image of a sinuous hound on it. It was identical to the one she'd found at the Silver Chalice.

Chapter 5.

Of Balconies and Reprimands

Victoria smoothed her thumb over the bronze amulet. It could be no coincidence that she'd found one at Sebastian's place and then here again... where Sebastian just happened to be.

Lips firming in irksome thought, she cast one last a.s.suring look at George, who snored comfortably in his wing-back chair, then hurried out of the library and up the stairs.

Aunt Eustacia had not received a response from Wayren regarding the amulet before Victoria left London, but she'd been a.s.sured of an update as soon as she did. Victoria'd a.s.sumed the amulet had belonged to the demon, but that appeared not to be the case, since there were no demons or vampires here at Claythorne.

Focused on her thoughts, Victoria didn't see him until it was too late. He stepped out of an alcove just a short distance from her bedchamber, causing her to falter in her hurried pace.

Sloppy. She should have expected it; she should have known.

"Sebastian," she said, looking up into his handsome face. Light from her candle flowed over his cheeks, settling a golden cast over his curling hair. His lips were positioned in that sensual, amused smile that alternately annoyed and charmed her.

"Why, Lady Rockley," he said smoothly. "What a surprise to find you wandering the halls in the middle of the night."

She was in no mood to be charmed. "I suppose I have you to thank for my rude awakening."

The amus.e.m.e.nt spread to his eyes as he bowed his head slightly. "Mr. Starca.s.set is madly in love with your fetching person, and, I have found, is quite biddable when plied with enough brandy."

Victoria realized they were standing in the hall, where, unlikely as it might be in the wee hours of the night, they could easily be seen. With an angry look, she stalked past him and reached her door, Sebastian at her heels.

Once inside her room, she placed the candle on her dressing table and turned to face him, arms crossed over her middle, and suddenly she was quite glad she'd had the wherewithal to don the pelisse. "You sent that poor man in here!"

"Let us go out on the balcony," he suggested. "Despite the fact that you are a widow, and being found with a man in your bedchamber wouldn't be considered overly scandalous, it is a lovely night. Besides," he added as he strode past her toward the Previous Top NextFrench doors that opened to a small terrace, "I don't wish to be in the same room as you and a bed... unless you mean to put it to use." He paused dramatically. "Do you?"

Ignoring the spike of interest that sent a warm rush over her bosom, Victoria brushed past him, heading out onto the terrace.

"Apparently not." Closing the doors behind them, Sebastian walked out to stand across the way from her. "And as for Starca.s.set... well, in reviewing the situation, I determined it was much more prudent to get you out of your room if I wished to speak with you than to attempt to breach it myself. I had a feeling your hospitality might be a bit... chilly." His smile shone in the moonlight. "And yet... here I am. Exactly where I planned to be. And it is not so very cold at all."

"On the contrary. I find the temperature rather brisk." A very light breeze brushed the tips of his tousled hair and skimmed over Victoria's cheeks. It was indeed a lovely night. The roses and lilies that grew in the garden below scented the balcony. She breathed deeply and smelled fresh country and night air, tangy and dark; so different from the mosaic of artificial smells of London and Society.

The silvery moonlight only enhanced Sebastian's appearance, a factor she presumed had prompted his suggestion to withdraw to the balcony, the proximity of a bed notwithstanding. His arms extended, hands propped on the top of the rail, he watched her with an easiness that irked her. The pale illumination from the celestial bodies tipped the edges of his curls silver, and helped to keep his expression partially hidden.

Victoria waited for him to speak, but he did not; so she said, "Now that you have gone through such great pains to draw me from my bed, surely you will keep me in suspense no longer."

"So you have left London." He looked at her as though searching for something. "How are you, Victoria?"

She looked away. There were bountiful layers of meaning in his simple question; whether he intended every one that she read there, she did not know. "Why do you ask? Perhaps because your plan to deliver me to Lilith's vampires didn't work? Because you are ashamed that you ran from the Silver Chalice last year and left Max and Phillip to face the vampires on their own?"

Though she kept it steady, surely he could not mistake the anger in her voice.

He stood angled so that his eyes were shadowed, and she could not read what was truly there. "Ah. Then I have the answer to one of my questions. You still think the worst of me-that I would be so despicable as to make love to you in a carriage as I was delivering you to the vampires. Despite the fact that I warned you when your husband came to the Silver Chalice. Despite the fact that without my a.s.sistance with the Book of Antwartha, Maximilian would be dead and Lilith would most likely have it in her possession." Cool and unruffled he spoke, but there was an underlying emotion that Victoria could not identify. She wasn't sure that she wanted to.

"As I recall, you would have stood by and watched Max perish when he tried to take the book. But regardless of that small point, what else was I to think?"

"That perhaps I simply got carried away by your beautiful mouth, and wanted to distract you from the pain that was so obvious in your eyes-and that the arrival of vampires was no more a part of my plan than to get you undressed."

Now she could see his eyes, and the look there sent a little shiver over her shoulders. "According to Max, you would always take the opportunity to undress a woman, particularly in a carriage."

"I have no wish to hear Maximilian's opinions, for that is what they are, merely opinions-and most likely indicative only of his own inclinations, were he not so bound and determined to be a Venator and nothing more. A hunter, a killer... a man of violence with little left for anything-or anyone-else. I, Victoria... I am not a man of violence."

"A fact supported by your cowardly escape from the Silver Chalice last summer."